Daring to Date the Boss / The Tycoon Who Healed Her Heart: Daring to Date the Boss / The Tycoon Who Healed Her Heart. Melissa James

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СКАЧАТЬ making him want to smile at once, so dramatic over a salad? Not to mention the other parts of him that were breaking into an unwanted ‘hallelujah’ chorus whenever she looked at him or smiled.

      Somehow he couldn’t dismiss it as a normal male reaction. Probably because this strange connection felt too intimate for just an hour’s acquaintance. With her stubborn courage and her willingness to shoulder her own burdens, Rachel Chase touched him somewhere he hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t normal for him. Usually when he felt something like this it was simple attraction. He’d ask them to dinner, enjoy hearing about the woman’s life, take it further at his leisure if she was willing, become bored in weeks and then give the nice kiss-off.

      Rachel wasn’t anything like the usual women he was attracted to. Yet he was hurting, remembering, thinking—and, yes, he was enjoying himself, merely sitting here talking to her. Within half an hour she’d made him feel more than he had since he’d been twelve.

      It only added piquant spice, knowing Rachel didn’t seem aware. No feminine antennae were on at all, looking for a man to fill the blank time in her life. She didn’t want him at all, barely thought of him as a man.

      Then there was the flash he’d seen in her eyes, unmistakable, almost horrifying. For a single moment she’d been afraid of him; she’d been willing to run rather than be near him.

      He had to tread lightly here. Just by crossing his own threshold he’d been dragged into undercurrents he wasn’t prepared to swim.

      ‘As I said, I know you’re Mrs Pete,’ he said. ‘Given what the media’s printed about your personal life, your need for privacy at this time is perfectly understandable.’

      One by one, Rachel’s vertebrae relaxed. It seemed she wouldn’t have to find a new place to go—at least, not yet. ‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.

      ‘But I need to make some amendments to the current arrangements.’ His voice was smooth and even but she almost heard his heartbeat picking up, felt that unknown but strong emotion vibrating through him. ‘I have assigned Monika to make up your room and bring your meals while you stay with us.’

      Rachel felt the blush stain her cheeks. ‘Have there been many complaints against the staff spending time with me?’

      Armand Bollinger nodded curtly, and she knew they’d reached the heart of his problem. From what she’d read of him on the plane coming over to Europe, he had rebuilt this place from the ground up after a fire had destroyed almost everything about eighteen years ago—the same fire that had taken the life of his father. The enormous amount of high-flying Guillaume Bollinger’s debt only became clear after his death, and speculation was rife on whether his death had been deliberate. Armand Bollinger had just turned seventeen at the time, but he’d taken control of his family finances. With years of hard work and dedication, he’d paid his father’s debts before he recreated this five-star resort. He obviously didn’t take his success for granted.

      Thanks to her, his professional prestige had taken a hit. She knew too well how that felt.

      ‘This situation is my fault.’ She gazed at him in determined apology, trying to ignore that odd thrill racing through her body, just by looking into those dark-lashed, storm-grey eyes. An article from about a decade ago floated into her memory: the hypnotic eyes of the Wolf … ‘Please don’t fire anyone, Herr Bollinger. It wasn’t their fault. It was mine.’

      ‘I have no need or desire to fire anyone, Ms Chase. All my staff have given me complete satisfaction until now. I believe everyone deserves a second chance.’

      ‘Oh, yes,’ she agreed fervently, though he’d spoken in a voice almost as cold as the snow outside. ‘They do. And it really was my fault.’

      ‘So you’ve now said three times.’ As slow as the nod he’d given her moments before, a smile was born. Not the perfunctory stretching of lips she’d seen on rare pictures of him during the past decade, but a real, warm smile. The silly little thrill became outright shivers racing through her as fast as a Daytona driver. She’d seen loads of pretty boys in LA: models, actors and the rest. But she’d never seen such true, strong masculine beauty close up before. When he smiled, Armand Bollinger was devastating.

      ‘Moreover, I understand their fascination.’ Either not noticing her reaction, or not caring, he lifted the painted china coffee-pot sitting on a matching stand with a candle to keep it warm and offered it to her. Trying her best not to stare at him, she nodded and he poured it into her cup. ‘Having a real Hollywood star hiding out in our quiet resort is a scandal too delicious not to take part in.’ He held out the coffee cup to her.

      She stiffened. ‘I thought you of all people would know the truth, Herr Bollinger, given your brief stint as both a French and international noir actor, years ago though it was. Stars belong in the sky.’ She took the cup and put it down fast; her hands were trembling. ‘But I agree that the whole world knows about my life.’

      ‘Or think they do,’ he said with a wryness that seemed to come from the heart. ‘But, as you know nothing about my real life, I know nothing of yours, Ms Chase. I merely made a generalisation on how average people feel about meeting the rich and famous.’

      Startled, she looked up, but his concentration was on his refilled coffee, watching the steam rise. She opened her mouth and then shut it hard. Something about Armand Bollinger was dangerous … and seductive. Oh, he was good, if he could make her yearn to unburden herself within an hour of meeting.

      ‘I guess nobody knows anyone’s true story but those involved, unless their publicist gives a quote,’ she said lightly. ‘But you know the first rule of the media: never let truth get in the way of good sales for the tabloids.’ From staring at the curls of steam from her coffee, she looked up with a smile that was its own barrier, daring him to ask.

      ‘So I’ve heard.’ His tone sounded half a million miles away, a lifetime ago.

      She found herself staring at him again against her will and even her need. It was as if he’d put her under hypnosis. He had a knack of being able to say so much with a few words, leaving her with the feeling of things unfinished, wanting more. It was as if an asteroid was flying by her, dragging her into its orbit as it passed.

      This was the last thing she needed. All she’d wanted was her privacy, to pay her bills when she’d found the strength to face her life. He’d been the one to barge in here, expose her and then say everything and nothing at once. And she still didn’t know why he was here.

      ‘I think I’ve asked enough times, Herr Bollinger.’ She put down her cutlery and pushed the rest of the salad away from her. More trembling little thrills, more resolute denial. She said calmly enough, ‘What is it you’re asking of me?’

      CHAPTER THREE

      AFTER a long moment Armand leaned forward, looking into her face. Those eyes had a power he couldn’t define—unless it lay in their utter guilelessness. He’d played the game of love so long with other players, being straightforward with a strange woman felt almost unfamiliar. He followed her suit, pushing his half-eaten lunch away. This discussion was too important to blur with food. ‘It’s obvious that the past few months have been harder on you than most people know.’

      He waited for an answer but, as if refusing to hand her power over even in confirmation or denial, she kept her chin high and said nothing but merely waited.

      When it was obvious she wasn’t going to answer his unspoken question, СКАЧАТЬ